The Things We Love Most
by Libranfate
Summary: "She sat there quietly, her eyes trained forward. I remember those words that I offered to her that day, and I know that one day, I shall come to rue uttering them."


**The Things We Love Most**

 **Summary:** "She sat there quietly, her eyes trained forward. I remember those words that I offered to her that day, and I know that one day, I shall come to rue uttering them."

 **Setting:** Slight AU The story is set entirely in Snow's Palace.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

∞ **THG∞**

(Snow's POV)

The garden is silent, completely so. She stands there like a heavenly herald, silver eyes trained on the sky above. I remain standing in the entryway, eyes never leaving her still form. Donning nothing but a flowing white gown, the raven-haired beauty is completely lost in thought. I am no fool, however; I am well-aware that she has sensed my presence. She chooses not to mention it, just as she always does.

It is always I who must shatter the silence.

"It would be most unbefitting of the first lady to fall ill with pneumonia," I comment idly. She simply scoffs.

"You forget, I am borne of District Twelve. This cold is nothing to me." Her eyes grow distant then, mind drifting off to her former home.

"I shall be glad when that part of you is cut away forever, falling away to obscurity." A most hateful glare is leveled my way, an action that I have become quite accustomed to as of late.

"Fuck off, my _liege_ ," she sneers before breezing past me towards our chambers. I follow silently behind her.

My wife of two years, she is a creature most beautiful and dangerous. Following the execution of President Alma Coin of District Thirteen, the districts fell into disarray. I was prepared to order a nationwide strike that would remind them just who is in charge, but my advisors were against it. Instead, they stated that I should offer them something, hope, if you will. Thus, the search began.

We spent months scouring Panem, looking for the perfect woman to stand at my side. If anything, I am a strategist. I am no fool; the hatred for me is palpable. Alma aimed to overthrow my rule, utilizing nuclear warfare. Her downfall came as she grew too confident. I am a proud man, but I am far too pragmatic to allow anything to cloud my judgment. My rule is eminent, my rule is absolute. She would have been wise to adopt a similar mentality.

It would be a year into our search that I would first lay eyes upon her.

Strong, determined, and resourceful, Katniss Everdeen shone like a diamond in a sea of coal. Hers was a name spoken across Districts, respect and adoration offered to her by all. There was something in her eyes, though, something dark and sinister that sealed her fate. The citizens have yet to understand the level of madness that marks a true leader, someone willing to invest and subsequently sacrifice his or her very soul for their people. I saw it, captured in a net of unbidden fury.

Even greater than her physical beauty, her secret nature was incomparable.

"Your thoughts are showing again," she quips as I move to stand behind her.

Our eyes lock in the mirror of her vanity, warring with one another for supremacy. This is our way, ceaselessly challenging each other to assume complete control of varying situations and circumstances. Our union is rather loveless, unsurprisingly. Regardless, we are completely honest with one another, a promise made upon arrival in the Capitol. She did not hesitate to agree to those terms.

"I was feeling a bit nostalgic, Lady Everdeen. Am I not allowed to do so?"

"Do as you will, my husband. I was feeling the same, so I sought solace in solitude. I appreciate your arrival, ironically enough."

"That's rather surprising."

"It really shouldn't be. I am better off accepting the present than dallying in desires for the past."

We both fall silent then, each falling into our own thoughts. There is no anger nor bitterness in her words, just pure, unadulterated truth. I cannot begrudge her; I tore her away from those she loved most, after all. She left willingly, knowing what refusal would yield. I remember the return flight most of all, though. She sat there quietly, her eyes trained forward. I remember those words that I offered to her that day, and I know that one day, I shall come to rue uttering them.

"It is the things we love most that destroy us."

She remains silent as I leave her to her evening activities, returning to the very gardens from which I pulled her away from. I stand in the exact spot where she stood, raising my gaze just as hers was previously. My eyes are met with grey sky, similar in tone to her own irises. For just a moment, I find myself experiencing an uncommon bout of peace. My entire body relaxes, calming almost dangerously so. That's when I hear it. A lone jabberjay chirps a delicate melody, singing a beautiful yet malevolent song that only one woman could ever compose.

"You would be wise not to sing that again, little bird. That song is one of death." I walk back into the warm interior of my palace, smirking appreciatively at the sound of the small avian falling to the ground.

There it rests with several others of its kind.

∞THG∞

"Roses, how quaint."

She spares no words as she continues to work, molding the fertile soil as an artist would clay. Her long locks form a midnight shroud around her face, but I can perfectly picture her focused expression. I wait patiently as she finishes her task, knowing her well enough to know that she will have something snide to impart shortly. Seemingly pleased with herself, she rises to her feet, removing her gloves before leveling her glare upon me.

Instead of speaking immediately, she circles me slowly. Her stormy irises take in every inch of my still form, her minds working out some curiosity that has been bothering her. In the distance, a jabberjay begins to sing before stopping abruptly. The self-congratulatory smirk that adorns her face is almost endearing…

Almost.

"There is no need to be rude, Coriolanus Snow, none at all. Have your guards tend to these before dusk, if you would. You and I must attend a meeting shortly."

"Shall I express any amount of worry?"

"As with your need to be rude, none at all."

I watch as she walks away, sauntering dangerously. I return my gaze to the many rows of rosebushes freshly planted in the temporarily thawed enclosure. Sunlight beams down upon the tightly closed buds, the ivory wisps hauntingly beautiful in the warm glow. I kneel down slowly, my own curiosity getting the better of me. Gently, I press a fingertip against a sharp thorn, watching as the blood beads upon my skin. I wait, closing my eyes as seconds pass by. After waiting a few moments, I open my eyes once again.

"What monstrosity have you created, Ms. Everdeen?" I rise slowly, curiosity piqued. Frowning in thought, I follow my devious betrothed.

I chuckle as I hear a bird begin to sing.

∞THG∞

It's raining the next time I see her in the gardens, staring up into the sky mournfully. I cannot describe the unease that I feel watching her this time. Something is different, the set of her shoulders burdened as I have never before witnessed. An intense rage builds within me, foreign in the realization that it is borne of another's anguish. I am not completely without heart, contrary to what most surmise. Crossing the sullen expanse between us, I place my hands delicately upon her bare shoulders.

"They only slaughtered twenty last eve," I whisper calmly, referencing her flesh-craving flora. Her expression softens slightly.

"I will make up for such a low number in the morn," she tosses offhandedly.

I grow silent, letting her dwell within this moment for a bit longer. Losing someone dear is something that I have not felt since I can remember. I cannot help but notice just how much I have come to experience since marrying Ms. Everdeen. I am loathe to admit it, but she has somehow managed to slightly humanize me. The citizens adore her, hanging onto every word that escapes her lips. She is their voice, yet she is no one's martyr. She advocates for them, but she does not simply give them what they desire. They must earn it, striving earnestly towards a better Panem.

They also know that she is not above killing.

"I want a tree planted here," she says suddenly, freeing me of my internal reverie.

"Will it devour my guards?" She snorts mischievously.

"No. I like to keep you on your toes, change things up a bit. I plan on killing you, that much is true, but I won't repeat attempts." I nod.

"Well, you will receive a tree then. Just inform Ms. Trinket of the particulars."

Sensing her mood lightening tremendously, I turn to walk back inside. I glare down as a nearby rose snaps after my retreating ankles. I am almost inside when she calls after me. The quiet sorrow that taints her tone troubles me.

"My lady?"

"I approve."

My eyes widen as the full weight of her words sinks in. An unexpected grin spreads across my face, and for the first time, I can truly see her for the woman that she is. I never thought that I would come to feel as I do now for her, but it seems that some things truly can change. She is as deadly as she is beautiful, recognizing humanity for what it truly is. There are good people, there are bad people, and then there's us. We are in a league of our own, and I could not be happier. I smile at her darkly…

Lovingly.

"As you wish."

∞THG∞

"Where is Buttercup?"

"Buttercup is _probably_ dead."

"Katniss!?"

"Do not fret, Primrose, I will retrieve you another feline."

"You spoil her."

"Thank you for your kindness, President."

"You are most welcome, young lady."

"Ass."

I can only shake my head at my wife and her darling sister. It is snowing once again, and the three of us are strolling through the garden. Another two years have come and gone, and a lot has changed. Following the death of her mother and several others in a bombing incident in District Twelve, I gleefully wiped District Thirteen from the map. I made sure there were no survivors, something that pleased Ms. Everdeen greatly. No other incidents have happened in the wake of that, the true representation of my wrath playing out for all to see.

In the end of things, it was for the love of my wife, but no one outside of these walls need to know that.

At her behest, we moved young Primrose to the Capitol. She is flourishing here, learning advanced medicine from the best doctors that Panem has to offer. For her part, my first lady has made an impressive effort to ensure our happiness. She has not ceased her odd assassination attempts, but they _have_ become much more focused upon my unfortunate guards.

Her accursed roses are thriving these days.

We come to stop underneath the massive tree in the center of the gardens. The massive willow glows eerily against the snowy backdrop, its long tendrils unaffected by the cold. I press a free hand against the dark trunk, feeling both the scaly bark and the secret running beneath. I turn to look at the woman beside me, squeezing her hand reassuringly. She smiles warmly at me.

"Your friend, Gale, he is truly talented." She nods.

"Frighteningly so. I requested a tree from Twelve for a reason, as you can see."

Woven into its trunk and branches is an intricate web of design that turns this into a trap most deadly. We stare upwards simultaneously, smiles darkening as we take in the bodies of those who transgressed against us. My wife had always spoken very highly of Gale's proficiency with traps and snares, and I can now see why.

"Thank you once again," she mutters distantly. I smirk in response.

"No, thank you." I do not need to elaborate in the least. We share a warm look.

"By the way, what's up with the dye job? Are you trying to impress me? " I laugh wholeheartedly.

"I figured it would make for a better appearance. I am many times your age, mind you." She laughs rather loudly.

"I have no doubt, Coriolanus Snow, that you will find some way to survive much longer than you should. I've read the books and seen the films. Just don't snatch anyone's body that I know. Besides, I view you as much more of a grandfather than husband." I roll my eyes at her, yet another habit that I adopted from her repertoire.

"Truth be told, I have come to love you rather dearly, Katniss Everdeen. You…matter to me. I am not in love with you, so do not expect affections of that sort. I still find the idea of you dead quite entertaining. Still, forced as it was, I do not regret a single day. You did manage to succeed in your mission, in a sense." She quirks an eyebrow.

"I like having you around, too, you and your new blonde hair. How did I succeed, though?" I smile softly.

"You destroyed the old me." She smirks, pleased with herself.

"You told me yourself: it is the things we love most that destroy us."

With that, we laugh and walk towards the Palace.

∞ **THG∞**

 **I know it's an odd little thing, but I kinda like it. It's not a love story by any means; that much is stated. I just…yeah. Anywho, please review. We writers like to know what you guys think**


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